Saved by my Son

I woke up before the sun, the room still cloaked in that grey, pre-dawn quiet that never lasts long in this house. My phone buzzed with the alarm I set the night before -- 4:45 a. m., brutal but necessary. Our flight was at nine, and I knew how this circus usually went. If I didn't start moving early, my husband and daughter wouldn't.

I sat up slowly, brushing my long hair back from my face. The mirror across the room caught a glimpse of me in the dim light -- not bad for forty-six. I still had the cheekbones, the lips that remained pouty through the years, and a tall, slender figure that hadn't yet surrendered to gravity, though God knows gravity was trying. Still, it was a blessing to look this good at my age and I wasn't going to complain.

Jeremy, of course, was still dead to the world beside me, mouth slightly open, snoring faintly. I nudged his arm.

"Hubby," I whispered, then again, louder. "Hubby. It's time."

He groaned and rolled over, dragging the comforter with him.

"I'm up," he said into the pillow, though he didn't move.

I didn't have the luxury to wait. I padded into the hallway and knocked on Stacy's door.

"Stace. Up. Let's go."

No response. I cracked the door open and saw her sprawled across the bed like a starfish, her phone clutched in one hand, even in sleep. I stepped in and flicked her ankle.

"Stacy."

She stirred, grunted, and pulled the comforter over her head. I was halfway through repeating myself when my son Kevin passed by, already dressed, his duffel bag over his shoulder.

"Hey, Mom," he said, giving me a tired but warm smile.

"Bless you," I said, patting his arm. He was always the first up, always ready. At nineteen, he was the only one who seemed to understand what it meant for me to be the glue of this family. He saw things the others didn't -- the grocery runs, the birthday planning, the late-night laundry sessions when Stacy remembered she needed something washed the night before school.

"Does any beautiful lady I know need help with the bags?" Kevin grinned.

Laughing, I nodded. "You're reading my mind. Can you make sure the big suitcase gets into the car? And grab your dad's neck pillow from the couch -- he'll forget it otherwise."

"On it."

By the time I wrestled Stacy out of bed with the promise of coffee and the threat of missing the plane, Jeremy had finally shuffled into the kitchen, wearing socks and a far-off look in his eyes, as if the act of leaving the house before noon offended some deep principle.

"Do we really need to get there this early?" he asked, pouring himself coffee with the deliberation of someone pouring molten gold.

"Yes hubby." I said, brushing past him to grab the printout of our travel itinerary -- one of three copies I had made, just in case. "It's summer. The airport will be a zoo. You want to miss the flight, we can go back to bed. But you're not blaming me when we're stuck in security while they call final boarding."

Stacy slumped into a chair, hoodie pulled over her head, eyes glued to her screen. I wasn't even sure she remembered where we were going.

"Stacy," I said. "Do you have your passport?"

She blinked and frowned. "Um..."

"Go. Now."

Kevin returned from the garage, wiping his hands. "Suitcase is in. Car's loaded."

I kissed his cheek gratefully. "What a man! You're a miracle."

He smiled. "I try."

By six, we were packed and ready, though I use "ready" generously. Jeremy stood in the driveway staring at the car like it had wronged him. Stacy was in the back seat already, muttering into her phone, probably telling her friend she was being "dragged to hell" -- also known as a two-week vacation in Spain.

I double-checked everything. Passports, IDs, charger bricks, snacks, a paperback I probably wouldn't read, my one good pair of sunglasses. I locked the front door and got in the car. Kevin drove, because frankly, I didn't trust Jeremy to stay awake behind the wheel.

The morning sky was lightening, orange creeping along the horizon. I leaned my head against the window, finally allowing myself to exhale. This vacation had taken months to plan -- coordinating everyone's schedules, booking flights, reserving the hotel, figuring out how to not kill each other in a foreign country. I was tired already, and we hadn't even reached the terminal.

Halfway there, Jeremy perked up, turning to me.

"Did you remember the converters?"

"Yes."

"And the Airbnb reservations?"

"Not Airbnb, hubby. A hotel. Yes. I printed them."

"Should we stop for food?"

"No."

From the back, Stacy whined, "I could really use Starbucks."

I closed my eyes and said, "We'll get something at the airport. If we stop now, we'll be cutting it close."

Silence followed, which was a rare win.

At the airport, everything was exactly as I expected -- crowds, screaming toddlers, one security line open despite the eight lanes marked. I herded my family like a weary shepherd, making sure no one wandered, no one dropped a boarding pass, no one started a fight.

When Kevin slipped his arm around my shoulder as we waited for our turn at TSA, I almost teared up.

"You're doing great, Mom," he said.

I laughed. "You're the only one who notices."

He shrugged. "They'd be lost without you."

That moment carried me through the next hour of slogging through bag checks, gate changes, and listening to Stacy complain about the Wi-Fi speed. Jeremy, to his credit, did take both carry-ons when I paused to catch my breath.

Once we found our gate, I sat down with a sigh and let my head fall back against the seat. My family spread around me -- Stacy FaceTiming a friend with her earbuds in, Jeremy reading the paper like it was 1997, Kevin beside me, offering to grab me a tea.

This was the start of our adventure. Spain awaited -- paella, beaches, winding alleys in Barcelona, and probably several loud family dinners that would test my patience. But for now, I had tea in my hand, my son beside me, and a sliver of quiet before boarding.

I closed my eyes for a quick rest.

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It figured, really.

After months of meticulous planning, Excel spreadsheets, printed confirmations, and email threads color-coded by day, the airline still managed to botch our seat reservations. I had triple-checked it -- four seats together, row 21. But at the gate, the agent offered me that tight, practiced smile that meant bad news.

"Looks like there's been a last-minute equipment change," she chirped. "We had to reassign seats."

The final result? Jeremy and Stacy up in row 12, comfortably placed right behind the business class curtain, while Kevin and I were bumped to row 37 -- practically inside the lavatory.

Jeremy didn't even fight it. "It's fine, Helen. It's just a flight," he said, already maneuvering his way up the aisle. Stacy barely looked up from her phone, mumbling something about how she "needed the window" seat.

I took a deep breath and smiled at the gate agent, resisting the urge to unleash twenty years of domestic martyrdom into her face.

By the time Kevin and I reached our seats -- one window, one middle -- I was so tightly wound that even my teeth ached from clenching. The overhead bins were full, the air smelled like recycled stress, and the man in front of us was already reclined like he was trying to nap through a coma.

"I'll take the middle, Mom," Kevin said quickly, lifting my bag up into a crevice I'd never have managed on my own. "You can have the window."

I looked at him, surprised. "You sure?"

"Definitely."

I settled into the window seat as he collapsed beside me, stretching his legs into the already-cramped space. Despite everything -- the seat mix-up, the boarding chaos, the screaming toddler a few rows ahead -- I felt something loosening in my chest.

It was oddly peaceful back here.

"I can't believe your dad didn't offer to switch," I said, not even bitter -- just marveling.

Kevin chuckled. "Even if he had, I wouldn't have let him. You deserve the break."

I turned to him. "From what?"

He shrugged. "From them. From being the family cruise director, twenty-four seven. It's your vacation too, you know."

His words caught me off guard. My first instinct was to laugh it off -- make a joke about moms not getting vacations, just longer, scenic errands. But the sincerity in his eyes stopped me.

"You really think that?" I asked softly.

"Mom," he said, turning toward me in the cramped seat, "you do everything. Always have. You plan, you cook, you clean up after everyone's drama. This time, I just want to make sure you have a good time. That's my whole goal."

I blinked, feeling warmth rush to my face in a way that had nothing to do with the cabin air.

"You're the only one who says that to me," I admitted, quieter than I intended.

Kevin tilted his head. "That's messed up."

"It is," I said, laughing lightly. "But I've just gotten used to it. Your father's a good man, just... passive. And Stacy's still orbiting planet Self, like most teenagers."

"She doesn't see what you do. I do."

I looked out the window, the tarmac blurring slightly as the engines whirred to life. My reflection stared back at me faintly in the glass -- tired eyes, a few more lines than last summer, but still beautiful, thankfully.

"I'm glad it's you back here with me," I said. "Honestly. I think if I had to listen to Stacy complain about the Wi-Fi or your father lecture me about exchange rates for nine hours, I'd leap out of this plane."

Kevin laughed. "Well, lucky you. You've got me and the world's smallest pretzel bag to get you through."

I nudged his shoulder. "You joke, but this is probably the best part of the trip."

The flight attendants came by, reciting safety information as though they were already asleep. We buckled in and watched as the runway loomed closer. The plane shuddered, tilted, and we were airborne.

For a while, we just sat in silence, the sky outside gradually lightening with streaks of orange and blue. The quiet next to Kevin was comfortable -- not the stiff, disconnected silence I so often had with Jeremy, or the charged, dramatic kind that clung to Stacy like perfume. Just peace.

Eventually, he pulled out his earbuds but left them on his lap.

"Have you ever been to Barcelona before?" he asked.

"Only once. A semester abroad. Long time ago."

"You excited to be back?"

"I think so. It's hard to feel excited when you're organizing a whole expedition, you know? You're constantly checking for passports and rebooking things and Googling 'best tapas near Plaza Mayor.' I kind of forgot to feel anything about it."

"Well, maybe this is your time to feel something."

I smiled again. "Where'd you get so wise?"

"I had a good mom," he said simply. "a real mix of brains and beauty."

God, he really was the best son in the world. I reached over and kissed his forehead with a laugh.

We talked more after that -- about school, about his plans, about a girl he liked but wasn't sure liked him back. Kevin was leaving to college next year and a star football player at school, I knew he was very popular with the girls and I could see why. He was not just strong and handsome, he was a proper gentleman in the old school sense. He asked about my previous memories in Barcelona, and I surprised myself with how much I remembered: the smell of coffee wafting through narrow streets, the cobblestones under impractical heels, a sunset that seemed to melt over the sky.

"Was it when you were a senior in college?" he asked, leaning closer.

I nodded "Yes darling, this was before I met your father."

"So it was with Karl?" he referred to my college ex whom I dated before Jeremy. I was surprised at the question, but not too much, since we had talked about my college days before. Not frequently, but still often enough for Kevin to know names.

"Yes it was..." I tried nod casually.

"You're probably going to be reminded of him a lot when you visit the city right?"

I thought about it for a while, not sure if I should have this conversation with my son, but also realizing that it couldn't do much harm. "I certainly will darling, it was... it was a special time in my life." I blushed a bit at the thought of my ex from decades ago, of the nights filled with non-stop lovemaking as he ravished me again and again. I cursed myself for not wearing a bra under my blue sundress and hoped my son did not see my nipples hardening at the mention of Karl.

Kevin nodded understandingly, seeming to get lost in thought for a while before he resumed regular conversation. We continued to talk about everything under the sun. By the time the cabin lights dimmed and the rest of the plane slipped into that groggy, halfway-sleeping state, I felt something I hadn't in a long while.

Tended to.

Kevin offered me a pillow to lean on, made sure I had a blanket, and even let me use his shoulder for part of the flight. He played soft music through one earbud and passed it to me without asking. We sat like that, heads leaning together, in a bubble of calm at the very back of the plane.

Somewhere near the middle of the flight, when most of the plane had descended into sleep or TV-induced comas, Kevin whispered, "Just promise me one thing."

"What's that?"

"Let me take care of you this trip. Just for once. Don't plan everything. Don't carry everyone's stuff. Just enjoy it."

I nodded slowly, too moved to speak for a second. "Okay," I whispered. "I'll try."

He blinked. "You are?"

"I promise."

A beat passed. "Really? Because I know you, Mom. You say you'll relax and then I find you doing laundry at midnight or repacking everyone's bags because Dad put the sunscreen next to the outlet converter again."

I smiled. "Okay, yes, I have trust issues. But I'm tired, Kev. I really am. And the truth is... I want to enjoy this. I don't want to be the tour guide, or the emergency kit, or the complaint department. I just want to be. With someone who wants me around."

Kevin sat up a little straighter. "Well, that's me. That's what I'm here for."

"And I want to prioritize time with you," I added. "Not because I don't love your sister and your father. But they don't... reach for me, you know? You do. And I see that. I'm not going to waste it."

Something passed over his face -- surprise, maybe even emotion, though he covered it quickly. "So I get a lot of one on one time with you like this?" he asked eagerly.

I nodded. "You're the only one who looks at me like I'm still a person, not a function."

He ran a hand through his hair and chuckled softly, though I could tell the laugh was covering a lot. "Well, I think it's quite safe to say this is gonna be the best vacation ever."

I leaned against him again, this time with real ease. "We'll make the most of it," I said. "You and me. Spain is ours."

"You mean we don't have to stop at every Zara and souvenir shop because Stacy 'forgot' something essential again?"

"Nope. I hereby absolve myself of all Stacy-related emergencies."

Kevin gave a triumphant little fist pump. "This is already the best vacation." It was his turn to kiss me on the forehead.

We lapsed into quiet again, but it was the kind of silence that didn't need to be filled. Outside the window, the Atlantic stretched endlessly below us, but for the first time in what felt like years, I felt grounded -- not because of the plane, but because of my son.

He was right. This trip could be different. I could be different.

I reached down and took his hand for just a moment. "Thank you, Kevin. For seeing me."

He squeezed my hand back. "Always."

And I believed him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

It was night in Spain by the time we landed. The taxi smelled faintly of cigarettes and lemon-scented cleaner, the kind of sterile freshness that never quite masked the tired vinyl seats or the faint heat trapped in the upholstery. We'd packed all four of us into a single cab -- something I'd suggested we avoid, but was overruled on because Jeremy didn't want to "split up and complicate things."

Complicated. The irony.

Jeremy had taken the front seat next to the driver, who was polite but clearly uninterested in Jeremy's attempts to speak to him in high-school Spanish, over-enunciating every word like he thought volume translated to clarity.

"¿Dónde está... el... casa? I mean la casa? Airbnb casa? Cerca del centro?"

The driver gave a stiff nod and returned to his GPS. I was a bit creeped out when the man kept adjusting his rear-view mirror to check out my nipples, but didn't make a big scene out of it.

Stacy, curled next to me in the back, had her AirPods in and was already scrolling through Instagram like she hadn't just crossed an ocean. Her hoodie was pulled up over half her face, and her legs were splayed carelessly into my side like I was a footrest.

"Stace, can you move your leg, sweetie?"

She didn't look up. "I'm exhausted."

"We all are."

"This car is, like, tiny. Ugh. Why didn't we get one of those vans like we did in Florida?"

"Because we're in Spain, and everything is smaller."

She rolled her eyes but didn't move her leg. Jeremy turned halfway around from the front seat, gesturing vaguely toward the back.

"Just let her be, Helen. She's jet-lagged."

I took a deep breath through my nose and stared out the window. Narrow streets zipped by, rows of cream-colored buildings with wrought-iron balconies and laundry strung out to dry like flags. Spain was outside, beautiful and humming with life, and here I was, crushed in the back of a taxi, fighting for a few inches of peace with my own family.

Kevin, pressed quietly on the other side of me, glanced over.

"You good?" he mouthed.

I offered a tight smile.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of water, cracking it open and handing it to me without a word. I took it and sipped, grateful for the cold, for something to do with my hands. For him.

"So this hotel," Jeremy said suddenly, still turned toward me like I hadn't just spent the past two months sending him photos, maps, and links, "Is it by the beach or near the interior?"

"Near the beach," I said flatly. "I emailed you the itinerary, hubby. Twice."

"Oh, right. I should probably look at that."

I didn't respond. I was too busy clenching my jaw and imagining him silently walking off into the Spanish sunset, never to be seen again.

Then I felt it -- Kevin gently tapping my elbow.

He leaned in slightly, voice low. "This whole trip is going to be a game of mental ping-pong, isn't it?"

I smirked. "More like emotional dodgeball."

He chuckled and shifted closer so Stacy's limbs didn't keep pressing into me. "You want me to make sure you're always next to me, everywhere we go?"

"Yes, please," I whispered. "You're my emotional support human."

"Done."

I stared out the window again, but this time, I felt better. Kevin had that effect on me -- he didn't fix things, exactly, but he saw them. Saw me. That was enough.

Stacy groaned suddenly. "Do we have to do touristy stuff, like, every day? Can we have one day where we just, like, shop?"

Jeremy nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, and let's not overschedule. Remember Florida? We were exhausted by day three."

I didn't say it, but I thought it: That's because I planned everything while you two coasted like hotel guests on a cruise ship I was running.

I glanced at Kevin again, but this time I didn't have to say anything. His face already said it for me -- You're not crazy. They're just... them.

When we turned down the cobbled street where the hotel towered over the other properties, I caught my first real breath of air since landing. The balconies were dripping with vines, and the breeze smelled faintly of yeast and rosemary. Spain. I was finally here.

And I'd be damned if I let Jeremy's passivity or Stacy's dramatics ruin it.

As the cab rolled to a stop, Kevin leaned over and said just loud enough for me to hear, "New plan: anytime you feel like throwing one of them into the Mediterranean, you just come find me."

I laughed, truly laughed, for the first time that day. "That might be often."

"I don't mind," he said. "I brought snacks."

God, I loved this boy.

We piled out of the car, Stacy grumbling about needing a charger, Jeremy stretching like he'd just completed a marathon. I stood for a second beside the cab, the late afternoon sun warming my arms, and Kevin reached down to grab both his backpack and mine before I could protest.

"I got it," he said simply.

"Kevin."

"You promised," he reminded me.

I nodded. "I did."

As we walked toward the building, I didn't look back at the others. I kept my eyes ahead -- on the vine-draped balcony, the sunlight pooling at our feet, and my son behind me, a quiet shield against the chaos I'd left in the taxi.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The moonlit entrance to the hotel was somewhat hidden behind an iron gate wrapped in ivy, almost like something out of a movie. A narrow walkway of uneven cobblestone led to the building's old wooden door, which opened with a little chime like wind against glass.

Jeremy muttered something about the lack of signage. Stacy immediately asked for the Wi-Fi code like it was a life-saving drug.

I didn't care. I was already falling in love -- with the stone archways, the distant sound of church bells, and the faint smell of rosemary and citrus that clung to the walls. I was tired, sore, and stretched thin after the long flight and that maddening taxi ride, but stepping through that door felt like walking into a different version of myself. One I hadn't seen in years.

And then Kevin was beside me.

He came up quietly, like he always did, as though he knew not to jar me out of the moment. One hand holding both our suitcases, the other slipping gently -- but firmly -- around my waist.

"Come on, Mom," he said softly, "let's check this place out."

His arm didn't move as we walked up the stairs. Not once. He held me close, steadying me like I was something valuable that deserved to be protected, not just shepherded along like someone's default organizer or bag carrier. The contact was comforting and possessive -- a son who genuinely wanted to be there, to walk beside me. To make sure I was okay.

No one had touched me like that in years -- not Jeremy, who stopped noticing when I was overwhelmed somewhere around our 10th anniversary, and certainly not Stacy, whose affection was more of the rolling-eyes, two-second side-hug variety.

Kevin noticed. "Are you feeling ok mom? You're blushing. And your..." his eyes drifted to my now rock-hard nipples. I planned this whole trip out, why couldn't I have just worn a damn bra?

I felt so embarrassed and could only manage to nod weakly "I... I'm sorry darling." I said with shame.

He almost seemed to read my mind from my reaction. "When was the last time a man touched you this way?" he asked curiously.

"Not in years." I sighed, feeling embarrassed and he looked away, as if not wanting to make it worse for me.

"How often do you and dad have sex?" he asked casually, still looking at my chest and I was taken aback by the question. He shrugged defensively "What, you're the one who said I was an adult now, you can just be open with me."

I sighed, he did have a point after all. "A few times a year."

He clenched his jaw, as if outraged. "That's it?"

I nodded.

"And is it because you don't want to or because he doesn't want to?"

"Darling, let's not get into..."

"Please mom, I won't probe again, just answer this question."

"It's because he doesn't want to darling."

"But doesn't that hurt your self-esteem?"

I nodded in silence, not wanting to say anything further.

"We're changing that, you hear me mom?" he asked and I sensed a tinge of anger in his voice. "There's no fucking way I'm letting you walk out of this trip without feeling like you're beautiful." He hissed under his breath and even I was taken aback by the intensity of his tone, he never swore in front of me.

"Th.. thanks sweetie..." I managed to blurt out in a surprised tone.

He took a deep breath and his face went back to being calm as we continued walking. "This place is so cool," he changed the subject, probably to spare me from more embarrassment, eyes glancing up at the old beams along the ceiling as we climbed. "You really picked a great spot, Mom."

I recovered from the momentary change of mood and smiled, leaning into him just a little. "Thanks, sweetheart."

"I mean it," he said. "You always do. Even when nobody says it."

I swallowed the knot in my throat and kept walking. His arm tightened just a little, pulling me closer, like he felt the shift in me before I did.

When we reached the top floor, the suite door creaked open to reveal a cozy sunlit space with terracotta tiles, arched windows, and soft linen curtains fluttering in the breeze. There was a small kitchen tucked into one corner, a wrought-iron table near the balcony, and two separate bedrooms on either side. The air smelled like lavender and lemon.

"Whoa," Kevin said, stepping in behind me. "This is actually amazing."

Stacy mumbled something about needing a mirror. Jeremy made a beeline for the couch like it owed him a nap.

Kevin, on the other hand, walked right to the center of the room, dropped our bags gently against the wall, and turned back toward me. "Okay," he said, like a mission commander, "you and I are officially claiming the room with the balcony view. Dad won't care, and Stacy's already hunting for the one with the bigger bathroom."

I raised an eyebrow at the prospect of sharing a bed. "You sure?"

"Mom," he said, stepping forward again, his hand finding the small of my back, "you're with me this trip. We're getting the room with the sunrise."

I laughed softly. "I didn't realize I booked a personal bodyguard-slash-vacation planner."

He grinned. "You did. Besides, the room is soundproof, you know what that means." He winked.

I blushed and he looked at me then -- really looked at me from head to toe -- like he was admiring a work of art. "I mean it. I'm not here for museums or shopping or Instagram stories. I'm here for you. I want to have real time with my mom. I don't even remember the last time we got that."

I blinked. My chest felt warm, almost heavy with gratitude. "I don't either," I admitted.

"Well, that changes now."

His words hit deeper than I expected. I had to turn slightly, just to keep the tears from spilling out in front of Stacy, who had finally emerged from the bathroom complaining about the water pressure.

I looked back at Kevin. He was still rubbing my back and enjoying being in my presence.

"How did I get a son like you?" I asked.

He shrugged. "You earned me."

I laughed again -- a soft, watery sound -- and then pulled him into a hug. A real one. His arms wrapped around me with that same secure pressure I remembered from when he was little and used to cling to my neck like I was his whole world.

Maybe I still was.

We stood there for a moment, surrounded by the smells and sounds of a foreign city and the quiet thrum of something sacred -- the rare, beautiful feeling of being chosen by someone simply because they love you.

"Let's go sit on the balcony," Kevin said gently, pulling back just enough to look at me. "Let's start this trip right." And so we did.

As Jeremy flipped channels aimlessly on the TV and Stacy scrolled endlessly on her phone, Kevin and I stepped out onto the small balcony with its rusted iron rail and view of sun-washed rooftops. He pulled out a chair for me like a gentleman, then sat beside me and put his arm around my waist again.

For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like a mother on duty.

I felt like someone worth loving, someone worth knowing -- and best of all, I felt it from the one person who had always seen me, even when I thought I'd vanished into the background. We talked for an hour, Kevin asking me all about my plans for the vacation, how glad I was to have time to relax and how lovely the hotel was.

Suddenly, he popped me with a random question. "So how often did you and Karl have sex?" the question came out of nowhere, hitting me like a sledgehammer.

"What is with these questions today?"

"I just wanna know." He shrugged. "What's up with making such a big deal out of generic questions?"

I sighed, "We did it quite often."

He rubbed my shoulders and leaned in conspiratorially "You miss the sex, don't you?"

All I could do was nod, knowing he could see my nipples hardening again.

"And the way that I touch you, with care and affection, reminds you of him, right?"

I gulped and nodded again.

"Have you ever cheated on dad?"

"Never!" I reeled back repulsively at the question, offended he would even ask. "How could you ask that?"

He seemed unphased. "Well, have you ever been tempted to cheat?"

I had no choice but to stay quiet, my eyes giving away the answer. Of course I've been tempted. Who wouldn't married to a man like Jeremy?

"I thought so mom." He smirked. "Have you ever fantasized about having a secret lover who could just make love to you all night long, like Karl used to?"

"Y... yes."

Suddenly, he looked around to make sure that neither his father nor sister were paying attention and leaned in for a kiss on the lips. I was surprised but he didn't let me pull away, pressing his lips into mine for a good two minutes, until he finally let go. "Let's get you to bed mom, time for you to experience that dream." He smirked.

"Kevin, what are you..."

"Ssshh..." he put a finger over my lips. "Mom, I want you to just answer the following questions. Don't overthink them, just give me honest answers."

I moved my face back "Darling, we can't..."

"Have I ever been anything short of a perfect son?"

"What?"

"Tell me mom."

"Of course you've not, always been perfect."

"Then just trust me on this." he reasoned. "Mom, I saw the look on your face earlier when I was holding you. You're really desperate for sex, you just don't realize it yet." He said it in such a non-judgemental, matter-of-fact tone that I was taken aback. "You're a real-life desperate housewife. Your fucking nipples harden like they've been iced even when a guy touches you with some sincerity. At this rate, you're gonna end up seduced by some delivery guy or plumber like some sleazy porn milf." It wasn't an insult, it was just an accurate observation based on how I had reacted earlier, so I couldn't get offended either because of the truth in his words. "And I can't let the most important person in my life live like that. I need to rescue you from that fate."

"Kevin, this is..."

"Ill use condoms mom, I promise." He said, and saw my eyes widening in shock when he said that. "No risks, always safe." He assured me.

"What are you talking about? You're my son!"

"Which is gonna make it even more special when I'm inside you." He got up from his seat and pulled me up too, wrapping his arm around me again. "Let's get you to bed, you won't be so prudish once we got through a box of condoms, trust me." I turned beet red with his words and couldn't believe what was happening. Was this really my son the gentleman?

"Darling, we really shouldn't. We can't!"

"Yes we should mom, and we can, I'm doing this for your sake. Now tell them we're heading to bed."

We walked to the center of the suite again. "Hubby, I'm heading to bed, I think the one in Kevin's room is more comfy for me." I called out nervously, but Jeremy simply waved, eyes not leaving the television for even a second. Stacy was busy on her phone as usual.

"See mom? They don't even listen. I would never do this to you, you know I deserve a reward just for the attention I give you." He said to me as he walked me into 'our' room and locked the door. I was trembling from the avalanche of events that seemed to be getting out of my hands, yet unable to deny the truth in his words.

He wasted no time in untying the halter top of my summer dress, leaving me with just my panties as it dropped to the floor. He then unceremoniously pulled them down to my ankles as well, kicking my clothes to a corner as he held my waist again and walked me to the bed. After laying me down naked, he kissed me on the forehead and stood up, removing his own clothes. I couldn't help but notice as he put on the condom, that he was bigger than his father. He then came over to lie on top of me missionary style, intertwining our fingers together. "Sorry mom, Id love to admire your body but I know you've waited long enough for this, lets start."

"Darling, I don't think thi... OOOOOHHH..." I moaned loudly as he entered me, my entire body shivering from the sudden sensation of such a big penis inside me for the first time. Oh god, I didn't know it would feel this intense!

"That's it mom, let it all out, feel me inside you. The room is soundproof, they can't hear us." He encouraged me and I felt my head starting to spin from the sensation, feeling him thrusting in and out firmly. "Look me in the eye mom, lets make love the old fashioned way." He added, the two of us staring into each other's eyes as he pushed in and out. I had to admit, eye contact really made it feel intimate. "God I love you so much." He said, making me blush again. I knew I should resist, but this felt so right, so natural. I could feel my body temperature rising and my toes curl.

"You need this mom, trust me. This is going to be our default position when dad and stace are not home - me on top, you under me, taking me inside you totally as we make love." He kept murmuring, thrusting in and out of me. I bit my lip and did my best to hold his gaze. "My beautiful, desperate mother. No longer, your son is here to save you."

I moaned at his words, feeling his hands pinning my wrists down above my head as he enthusiastically drilled me. My son, my saviour, rescuing me from the boredom of suburban life. I started gyrating my hips towards him, meeting him as he pushed in. Kevin grinned wide when he realized I was giving in, and picked up the pace. "Yeeah... fuck you're doing great mom, that's it, meet me, lets become lovers officially."

The bed began to creak as he quickened. For the next few minutes, he built up a steady rhythm.

"Fuck, you're so tight mom, I wasn't expecting you to be this tig... aaaaaahhh...." his body shook as I felt him cumming inside me. My body rattled when he finished, panting hard. But if I thought I would get respite, I was wrong. He didn't skip a beat and reached for the next condom sachet, putting in on and continuing the lovemaking, hardly skipping a beat. "Don't worry about the speed, I'll start lasting longer the further I go." He said nonchalantly, thrusting into me again.

"Ahhh... aaahhh... aaahhh..." All I can do was moan as he kept making love to me repeatedly, it felt like my entire body was set on fire with love and lust. I was incoherent, helpless and experiencing the most intense sensations I had ever felt. "Oh Kevin... my darling... my love..." I blubbered.

Kevin kept increasing the force of his thrusts and started giving it to me hard. I had never been filled up like this before, a cock so big and a lover so strong to just overwhelm me. We were fucking wildly by now, building to a massive crescendo, drenched in sweat. I kept calling out his name and he kept telling me how much he loved me.

When he was on the fourth condom, I finally had my release. "Kevviiiin... I'm cumming... I'm CUMMIIING... I'M CUMMMMIIIIIIIINNNNNGGGGG.... AAAAAAAHHHH..." I screamed with the most intense climax ever, my body spasming on the bed as my eyes involuntarily rolled up. I remembered all the times he had been such a caring son, all the times he had been so protective of me. Nobody did things for me like he did, he had been my reliable rock since he was born. Always looking out for me, always being attentive, always making sure that he had my back. I started feeling tears of happiness streaming down my face, mingling with the sweat.

"Im not done with you mom, we have 6 more condoms to go in the box. I'm not just your son anymore, I'm your saviour." He said proudly, putting on the next rubber and I simply nodded weakly before he started ravishing me again. I felt his strong arms lock themselves around my abdomen, our hips pressed together even firmer.

He made love to me relentlessly for the next few hours until the sun came up. At one point he even made me call him Karl as he pumped into me, it was intense! Needless to say, the entire box of 10 condoms was done and I climaxed twice more with loud screams. When the box was empty, he simply continued like it was no big deal, finishing three more times inside me bare, giving me yet another orgasm, making it four in total for the night. Four orgasms in one night! I couldn't believe how exhausted and sore I was, but in such a good way.

Afterwards, he laid out the used condoms around my face in a semi-circle as I lay in bed, and took a few photos because he wanted a "personal souvenir" to remember our first night. I was naked, drenched in sweat and embarrassed, knowing that the photos would capture how I had just been fucked like a slut, with ten bloated white condoms framing the picture. But I smiled at the camera anyway, I was too grateful to my son to protest about little things.

We cuddled and slept until the late afternoon. I could feel his love for me, sense how much he valued me and how much he enjoyed saving me like this. When my daughter knocked on the door at around 2 in the afternoon complaining that she was hungry, we finally got dressed and headed out. Jeremy and Stacy thought we had stayed up late watching a movie.

"I'm glad you got a lot of sleep darling." My husband nodded, probably hoping this would make me less stressed out.

"Me too hubby, me too." I said with a smile as the four of us headed out to have lunch.

THE END